


I'm With You

by fictionallemons



Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: Benji is a good dancer, Blow Jobs, Codependent spies, Drinking, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Hotel Sex, M/M, Mild Smut, Mutual Pining, Post-Mission: Impossible - Fallout, Sharing a Bed, Switching, Weddings, naps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:41:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25914526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionallemons/pseuds/fictionallemons
Summary: Luther's getting married again at a private resort on a tropical island. Only there's a mixup with the rooms and Benji and Ethan have to share. No big deal, right? One bed. Two friends. No problem. Ha.
Relationships: Benji Dunn/Ethan Hunt
Comments: 13
Kudos: 96
Collections: Benthan Week 2020





	I'm With You

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like my submission for Benthan Week Day 6: And there was only one bed... I also accidentally on purpose dropped in another splash of Day 3: That one very specific thing where Ethan sees Benji shirtless. Enjoy!

"Ethan. Wake up." Benji nudges Ethan with his foot as he pulls the motorboat into the slip marked Paradise Cove. The dock is just a black shape against a slightly-less-black sky. A few boats in nearby slips bob up and down soundlessly. The island is asleep. And so is Ethan. 

Benji kills the engine, secures the boat to the dock with the rope, then turns to his friend. Ethan's slumped to the side, his head resting on his hand as if he'd fallen asleep mid-thought. It's only a forty minute ride from the main island to this small, private one, but Ethan had passed out almost before they'd gotten underway. They'd been on their feet for thirty-six hours, having woken up the morning before in Hong Kong, and stumbled into their rental boat a little before midnight. By silent agreement, Benji had taken the wheel. He's a better boat driver than Ethan, and they both know it.

Benji takes a moment to simply look at Ethan. His hair is getting long again. He'd been pushing it up over his forehead the entire time they were in China. Benji's fingers itch with the desire to push it back himself, to smooth the soft dark brown hair away from Ethan's expressive eyebrows.

But he only taps Ethan on the shoulder. "We're here. Come on, mate."

Ethan wakes in an instant, on his feet and alert before Benji can grab his duffle bag and sling it over his shoulder. "Sorry, must have dozed off."

"Not surprising. You haven't slept since Wednesday night."

"Neither have you."

"No, I grabbed a nap on the second flight while you filing the report. That's why I'm glad you're the point man and I'm just ops. I hate paperwork."

Ethan smiles at him. "Then I don't feel bad for making you drive. Steer. Whatever."

Benji smiles back. "My pleasure."

Paradise Cove turns out to be a short walk from the dock, a cluster of small, whitewashed buildings set about a hundred yards back from the ocean. The lights in all the units are out, except for an orange glow at the first one they come to, marked "Office."

"I guess this is us," Benji says. He follows Ethan into the small, tidy room. It's deserted, but there's a key and a scribbled note on the resort's stationery on the counter.

_You're late, so you get last dibs. Bungalow 6, last one on the left. Brunch at 11 poolside, semi-optional. The main event is on the beach at sunset. Be there. ~L.S._

Benji reads the note and grabs the key, exchanging a look with Ethan. They shrug at each other, and leave without a word, following the lighted path past several bungalows until they find the one marked 6, which is, as described, the last one on the left.

It's a sign of how exhausted Ethan must be that he simply follows Benji in without doing a perimeter check. Not that there's much need. If there had been anything to worry about on that score, someone else would have taken care of it by now. Instead, Benji just drops his bag, flips on a light, and blinks his bleary eyes at the room. It's fairly small, but luxuriously appointed. There's a set of drawers and a closet and a door leading to a bathroom with a tub and separate glass-walled shower. There's a back door that must lead out to the beach. And there's one bed. King-sized, but still, just the one. There's not even a couch for a pull out.

"Um." It's not like they haven't shared close quarters before, but why would Luther give them a room with only one bed?

Ethan drops his bag next to Benji's, locks the door behind them. His shoes are off and he's unbuckling his black leather belt. "I'm beat. We'll figure it out tomorrow, okay?"

Benji sighs. It's no big deal. They're exhausted and a bed's a bed. And this is even a very nice one. He gets rid of his shoes as well, and goes into the bathroom to wash his hands and take off his outer layers. He's too tired to find his toothbrush, so he just swishes some mouthwash that's been provided on the counter for a few seconds in a nod to dental hygiene. 

By the time he goes back out, Ethan's already under the covers, eyes closed, a pile of his clothing on the floor. Benji sees his bare shoulder and swallows hard. He keeps his t-shirt and boxers on, slides in on the other side of the bed. It's not orthodox, but he has to admit he's glad Ethan's nearby. They've hardly been out of each other's reach for weeks, having worked back-to-back missions since they were both cleared for field work after Kashmir. It would have been weirder if they'd each had their own separate little bungalow. 

Benji falls asleep listening to Ethan's reassuringly even breaths, and he doesn't dream.

***

Benji's eyes open but everything's still black. He doesn't want to know what time it is. There's no way it's morning yet. So why is he awake? He rolls over to his side, facing the middle of the bed and comes face to face with Ethan Hunt. Oh right. The endless mission that made them the last to arrive on the island, in the middle of the night, forcing them to share a room. And a bed. Ethan's crept to the center of the bed, but he's out. He looks peaceful. His hair's fallen into his face again, and this time Benji doesn't stop himself from reaching over and brushing it up and away. It's soft. Ethan's skin is warm where Benji's fingers brushed it. Ethan shifts a little, and Benji freezes, not sure how he'll explain if Ethan wakes up. But he doesn't, and Benji drops his hand back to his side, lets out a long deep breath, and falls back asleep.

***

Ethan's still asleep the next morning when Benji wakes up again, this time for good. Light seeps in through the bungalow's shutters, and Benji can occasionally hear the faint murmur of voices through the bungalow's walls. He's still on his side, facing Ethan, and he feels his finger brush against something in the bed. He glances down—his right hand is pressed against Ethan's left, which is on the bed palm up, as if waiting for Benji to place his hand all the way inside. Except, obviously, not.

Benji eases his fingers away, breaking the slight point of contact with his friend and teammate, and gets out of bed as carefully as he can. Ethan needs his sleep.

He takes his dopp kit to the bathroom, and looks longingly at the tub for a moment before switching on the shower. He supposes technically they're all supposed to be on holiday, but a bath first thing in the morning is just too decadent. He'd been chasing baddies down forty-eight hours ago, then travelled halfway around the world to get here. It might take him a minute to get into the spirit of the proceedings.

The shower is large and the water is hot and feels incredibly good against travel-weary muscles. He takes his time lathering up, then steps out reluctantly once his fingers are going pruney. The ultra-plush bath towel wrapped around his waist, he shaves with care, neatening up his beard, which he'd allowed to get a little sloppy, and combing in some lovely-smelling beard oil he finds in the well-stocked medicine cabinet. He notes the discreet bottle of lubricant and the box of condoms imprinted with the resort's logo. He smile a little, hoping someone on this island will be getting lucky this weekend, since it certainly won't be him.

Being in love with your best-friend-slash-teammate-slash-boss kind of gets in the way of other relationships, even when it's completely unrequited.

"Damn." He should have brought his entire bag in with him, but he'll just have to go back out to get fresh clothes. He opens the bathroom door as quietly as he can, but he needn't have bothered. Ethan's awake, sitting up in bed, eyes adorably squinty as he glances over at Benji and lets out a gravelly, "Good morning." Benji pretends not to notice the sheets have puddled around Ethan's middle, exposing the broad, muscular chest that could have belonged to someone twenty years younger.

"Morning. Just grabbing some clothes and then the bathroom's all yours, mate." Benji rummages in his bag for the closest thing to resort wear he could get on short notice and starts back for the bathroom, catching Ethan's gaze on the way. Ethan hasn't moved, seems preoccupied with something just over Benji's shoulder. Benji turns to look, but there's nothing but a potted fern. "All right, there, Ethan?"

Ethan blinks. "Yeah. Just having trouble waking up. What time is it, anyway?"

Benji has to walk back over to his pile of clothes from the night before to fish out his phone. "Ten thirty. Jesus, we slept almost ten hours."

Ethan's looking at him again when he looks up from his phone. "We needed it."

"Now I need breakfast. Seriously, I'll be one minute and then your turn."

"Take your time."

Benji dresses in a flash, feeling guilty that he's been indulging himself while Ethan's had to wait, but Ethan's still lying in bed when he emerges from the bathroom, completely ready to go in a short sleeved button down—dark blue with tiny white fish embroidered all over—and a pair of chinos. He puts on his sneakers and grabs his wallet, then opens one window to peer out. There's a lot of sun out there. He hopes the resort has a gift shop where he might acquire a hat and sunblock, and maybe even sunglasses. His last pair had cracked in a fistfight last week.

"See you at breakfast?" Benji asks. Ethan's sliding out of the bed and he averts his eyes, registering Ethan's lightly golden skin and black boxer briefs in a blur of motion. "Then we can get this all sorted out."

"What sorted out?" Ethan's voice is still sleep-rusty and Benji shouldn't find it hot.

Benji waves his hand around vaguely. "The er, arrangements."

"Oh. Yeah. Sure." Ethan picks up his bag, heads into the bathroom. "See you at breakfast, Benji."

***

It turns out the pool is where the voices Benji heard were coming from, just around the corner from their bungalow. The pool itself is gorgeous, white tiled and shaped like a graceful amoeba, with lounge chairs and tables dotted around it. A larger table is groaning under the weight of what looks like enough food to feed a small army, with a few people serving themselves and a few more already seated and eating.

"Benji!" Luther's the first one to greet him, grinning hard and slapping Benji on the back. "You made it. Don't tell me you lost Ethan on the way?"

"No, he's here. Getting dressed." Benji winces a little after he says it, a little embarrassed at how intimate it sounds. "Getting ready. Whatever."

"Good, good. He knows I would literally hunt him down if he didn't make it to this little clambake." Luther motions to a woman with fine lines around her eyes and mouth, twinkling brown eyes and a wide, open smile. "Henrietta, this is Benji Dunn, Benji this is Hen."

Benji takes her offered hand, shakes it, then bows and brushes his lips over the back of it in a courtly greeting. "Incredibly pleased to meet you, Henrietta."

Henrietta giggles like a woman a third her age at Benji's over-the-top antics and Luther rolls his eyes. "Now, no stealing my woman away from me on my wedding day."

"So pleased to meet you, Benji," Henrietta says. "I've heard so much about you from Luther."

"Ah, well, mostly lies, I suspect," Benji says easily. Henrietta grins, and Luther snorts. "But I'm happy for you, anyway. And really pleased you invited me. It's been ages since I've been to a wedding."

"Well, Luther wanted to elope, and I said I would—it's not the first time for either of us, after all—but only if we could have a few of our closest friends. So I've got my sister and my college roommate and a couple of other gals here. I'll introduce you in a minute. And Luther said it had to be you, and Will, and Ethan, of course. Oh, and Ilsa, but I'm not sure if she's going to make it."

"You invited Ilsa?" Benji wonders how Luther had been able to contact her. After Kashmir, she'd kind of disappeared, and Benji had selfishly been glad. When she's around, he always feels like Ethan is one reckless decision away from turning away from the IMF altogether. From leaving Benji altogether. Benji very well knows he doesn't have any claim on Ethan, but still, he feels better now that things are back to normal, the two of them working together, taking on the world's bad guys one impossible, idiotic mission at a time. He likes Ilsa, he really does, he just can't lie to himself that he isn't jealous of her all the same.

"She's a hard woman to track down, but, yeah, I got her a message." Luther shrugs, like it's just another day at the office. Which is would be, if he hadn't officially retired after Kashmir. He tells Benji the story of how he met Henrietta, a retired schoolteacher with a penchant for target practice, at a Miami shooting range not long after that, as the two of them pile their plates with fruit, eggs, and pastries. "Neither of us is getting any younger, and I just can't believe my luck that I fell in love with a woman who's a better shot than me."

"That's the dream, isn't it?" Benji says, pouring himself an enormous mug of coffee. He sits at a table with Will, who he greets with a grin and a handshake. Since Will's promotion, he only ever sees him when he makes it back to D.C. every few months or so. There's one other guest already seated, Henrietta's sister, who's a nurse. He eats while pretending to be a normal person who can make normal conversation.

Ethan joins them when Benji's on his third cup of coffee and second almond croissant. "Good morning, everyone." He smiles and Benji's heart flips over a little bit. He doesn't get to see Ethan's toothy grin that often, but when he does, it never fails to make his insides gooey. God, he's pathetic. He's nearly fifty, there's no reason for him to feel like a twitterpated teenager at the sight of a handsome man's smile.

Luther gets up and gives Ethan a rib-crushing bear hug, then does the entire round of introductions again. Will shakes his hand, and goes with Ethan to the buffet, probably wanting to talk shop, the wonky nerd that he is. When they come back, Benji's about finished, and he idly thinks he should go track down that sun hat when Ethan slides into the chair besides him. Benji's a bit surprised—there are three empty chairs on the other side of the table, but he can't deny it feels good to have Ethan nearby again. He'd been a bit edgy the thirty minutes they were apart. Jesus, maybe he needs to work a mission away from Ethan if this is how codependent he's getting.

But he stays put, laughing and contributing to the conversation, nursing his last cup of coffee. Ethan eats—a rare sight to be sure, but a welcome one—and does his part to deplete the island's supply of coffee as well.

"I hope you can let down a bit while you're here, Ethan, Benji," Henrietta says. "The beach is gorgeous this time of year, and the office has snorkeling equipment and I think there are kayaks available. Luther tells me you've been working non-stop."

"It's not usually this busy," Ethan acknowledges. "But hopefully things are slowing down." 

Benji knows what Ethan's thinking—that the fallout from Kashmir had been the need to take down an entire network of well-funded anarchists associated with the Apostles and Solomon Lane. They'd been making strides, and Hong Kong had been one of the last big pieces of the puzzle. He knows Ethan is an "I'll sleep when I'm dead" sort of person, but that doesn't mean he can't take two days to celebrate a happy occasion such as this.

"Whatever you do, just remember, the wedding's at six. Don't be late," Luther warns them.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Benji says.

"We'll be there," Ethan says.

"I've got to take care of a few things with the girls. See you later?" Henrietta leans up on her tiptoes to kiss Luther's cheek, waves to the rest and takes off, her sister in tow. Luther leaves not long after, saying something about a massage. Soon Will, Benji, and Ethan are the only ones left. It feels strange to hang out, the three of them, without the pressure of an active mission. Things have been so crazy in the last few months, Benji can't even remember the last time the three of them were in the same room.

It's not awkward, it's just…Benji's tired. And he can feel the top layer of his skin reddening by the second. "I'm in sore need of some sunscreen and a hat. You lot need anything?"

"I'll come with you," Ethan says, pushing back from the table.

"It's been a while since I snorkeled. You guys game?" Will looks at them expectantly.

Benji trades a glance with Ethan, and he knows they're both remembering the mission before last. Venice. Scuba diving underneath a six century old church. The inevitable close call and near-drowning experience. "I think I'll pass," Ethan says finally. "Why don't we meet up for a pre-wedding drink at the bar?"

"Sounds good," Will says easily, setting off in one direction while Benji and Ethan head to the gift shop, a little building next to the bar, on the other side of the pool.

Benji doesn't question that Ethan's tagging along, just relaxes knowing he's nearby. They nod to the resort staff person behind the cash wrap, poke around the tiny store. Benji grabs a pair of plain brown sunglasses, a tube of sunscreen, and a straw fedora that doesn't look half bad on him, if he does say so himself. Ethan finds a hat, too, a dark blue boater that should make him look dorky but Benji privately thinks is pretty cute. They take their purchases to the register. The staff person, whose name tag reads Belle, rings them up. "Room number?"

Benji had been about to pay for the items, but Ethan answers, "Six." Belle nods and asks if they want a bag. Ethan just smiles his charming smile. "We'll wear them out," he says.

He grabs the hat Benji chose and drops it onto the younger man's head, then settled his new blue hat on his own. Benji thanks Belle, and dons his new sunglasses, slipping the sunscreen into his pocket. "That reminds me, should we go clear up this business about the room now?"

Ethan frowns and pushes the door open, Benji following him out into the bright sunlight. "What do you mean?"

Benji shrugs. "The room. It's a bed short, if you hadn't noticed."

"Oh. That." Ethan looks as if he might actually not have noticed. "I'll stop by the office later. Let's go for a walk."

"A walk?"

"Yeah, you know, you put one foot in front of the other, stroll about."

"I just wasn't sure you knew how to move at less than a sprint," Benji teases.

"I'm on vacation," Ethan answers, smiling. "Come on."

Benji applies enough sunblock to his arms and neck to prevent any more burns, offers the tube to Ethan, who does the same. They find the path to the beach, and skirt the turquoise blue water, heading toward a copse of tropical trees, looking for shade. They don't talk, but the silence is comfortable. Benji doesn't really care if they talk. He's enjoying being in this gorgeous place, next to his best friend, without having to worry about snipers or bombs or terrorists or video feeds or plutonium for five blessed minutes.

Ethan, too, seems content to just walk and just…be. 

Benji lets out a long, gusty breath. It feels like he's been holding his breath for forever, and here, now, he can finally breath again. He feels Ethan glance over at him and he tilts his head in question.

"Just, it's nice, isn't it?"

Ethan smiles. "Nice?" He looks around. Benji can't help noticing how the blue of the water bounces off Ethan's eyes, making them sparkle, how the dappled shade they've reached doesn't dim the bronze of his skin, the way each step into the sand makes Ethan's calves flex and bunch. "This is more than nice, Benji."

"Yeah. Bit of an understatement, I suppose," Benji murmurs. He laughs, suddenly, full and unexpected. He's in paradise with the man he loves, and even if Ethan doesn't, couldn't, ever love him back, he's still at Benji's side. Benji will take it.

"What?" Ethan asks, when Benji doesn't stop laughing.

"Nothing—a little punchy, I guess," Benji says when he gets his breath back. "Just, forty-eight hours ago we were up to our eyeballs in shit, and now we're in this place, and Luther's getting married and life is just really strange. I mean, we're insane, you know that, right, Ethan? The two of us. Will. Luther, too. Ilsa, definitely. We're all off our rockers because we can't help but save the world on a regular basis and then to come here and just leave it all at the door? It's kind of hard."

Ethan cocks an eyebrow at him. "You're not wrong, Benji. We're all nuts, it's true. But in a good way."

"In a good way," Benji repeats. "Yeah. I suppose so." Benji isn't really upset. He made his choice a long time ago and he's content. He's still terrified half the time, but it's all proven to be worth it, time and again. And not least because his dubious life choices brought him to Ethan, and kept him there.

They've made their way around the point of the island, the resort disappeared round the bend, and there's nothing to see in front of them for miles but calm blue ocean, and a calm blue sky. Ethan drops down in the shade of a palm, pats the ground next to him. Benji follows, feeling the creak in his knees a little as he gets comfortable on the fine white sand.

"You ever thought you'd see Luther get married?" Benji says, just for something to say.

"I tend not to be surprised by Luther's decisions this far into our friendship," Ethan says. "I never knew his first wife—they split before I met him. But I always thought he'd make someone a good partner."

"Do you think it's only because he's retired that he's doing it now?"

"Probably. He knows how hard it is to keep any semblance of a relationship going while working for the IMF."

Benji knows that Ethan knows it, too, better than most. Which is why Ilsa, with her beguiling invitation to quit and run off together features highly in Benji's top ten nightmare list.

"It's practically impossible," Benji says. Lord knows he's never had more than four dates with the same person since he passed the field exam. It doesn't help that his heart isn't really in it, given that it belongs to someone else.

"Impossible?" Ethan looks at him, mouth quirked ironically. "Interesting choice of words."

Benji rolls his eyes. "That's not a challenge, Ethan." The last thing he wants is for Ethan to start dating someone simply to show he can.

Ethan just hums in response, and they look out over the ocean together for a while longer before Benji decides he's had enough sun.

"I think I'll go take a nap, refresh a bit before the ceremony," Benji says.

"Sounds good." Ethan hops to his feet with his customary grace and offers Benji a hand up. Benji hesitates only a second before grabbing Ethan's hand, letting him haul him up. Benji pushes as Ethan pulls and altogether they have too much momentum, because Benji gets pulled into Ethan's space, close enough for their noses to brush, before Benji rights himself.

"Okay?" Ethan asks, smiling a little.

Benji wills himself not to blush. It's not his fault Ethan overcompensated. "Fine. Let's go."

Benji has somehow managed to forget the whole room-only-having-one-bed thing again, because when they get back to their bungalow, there it is, mocking him, having been made up by the hotel staff while they were gone. He really does want a nap, but it feels rude to take up the bed when they should be getting the mess sorted out.

"Damn, I forgot," he says, then yawns.

Ethan frowns. "What?"

"The bed—" Benji waves his hand around. "We forgot to—"

"I'll take care of it," Ethan says. "You rest. I'll wake you up before the ceremony, I promise."

"You sure?" 

"Positive. Here," Ethan puts his hand on the small of Benji's back, propels him forward. "Get some shut eye. You know it's going to be a late night."

Benji allows himself to be pushed, toes off his sandals on the way and flops down on the top of the crisp white comforter. "All right. Just a few minutes."

His eyes are closed before he hears Ethan leave.

***

Benji comes to awareness slowly, sleep crusted at the corner of his eyes. The light in the bungalow is reddish, and he knows it's been hours since he fell asleep. He tenses for a moment, worried he's late for the ceremony, but then hears water running in the bathroom. Ethan must still be here, which means it hasn't started yet. He relaxes into the pillow just as Ethan emerges from the bathroom.

A cloud of steam escapes with him, bringing the scent of coconut and lime with it. Ethan's wearing a black short sleeve button-down that hugs his biceps a shade too tight, and dark blue jeans. His feet are bare. His hair is damp, and still falling into his eyes, and his jaw is freshly shaven. He looks good enough to eat.

"You're awake, great," he says when he notices Benji. "You've got time to shower, if you want, before meeting Will for that drink."

Benji feels like they've done this before, and then he realizes it's this morning in reverse. This time it's him who's sleepy in the bed and Ethan's the one dressed and ready to go. It's all so cozy and domestic and Benji shuts his eyes against the picture of Ethan, perfect and perfectly out of reach.

"Okay, give me two seconds."

"Come on, Benj, you'll feel better after you eat something. The bar has a full menu."

Food does sound good. Benji opens his eyes. Ethan's looking at him steadily, a little smile on his face. "I'll let you get ready." He grabs his phone, and he—he _winks_ at Benji before shutting the door behind him.

Benji shakes his head to clear it. There's no way Ethan just winked at him, that would be—weird. Okay, admittedly Ethan is a bit of a weird guy. That's one of the reasons Benji likes him. Still, maybe he'd just gotten a bit of dust stuck in an eye. Yes, errant dust. That makes sense.

He tries to put it all out of his head and focus on getting ready. They've got a wedding to go to.

Will and Ethan are already at the bar, with a plate of chicken wings and two umbrella-decorated drinks in front of them when Benji joins them.

"Benji! Piña colada?" Will asks jovially. "It's their signature cocktail."

"Just a beer, thanks," Benji says. If he starts with the rum now, he'll be smashed before "I do," and no one wants that.

Will signals to the bartender, and takes a long pull on his straw. "This is hands down the best piña colada I've ever had. This place is incredible. I'm so glad Luther's getting married—I really needed a vacation."

"Yes, I'm sure he planned it with your comfort in mind, Will," Benji says dryly. 

"And the bed! Mine's so comfortable I'm considering taking it home with me. How about yours?"

Benji stares at Will and decidedly doesn't look at Ethan. "Er, yeah, super comfortable. Speaking of which, did you manage to sort it out at the office?" This to Ethan. Benji doesn't exactly want to spend the night apart, but at this point it would be odd not to follow up.

Ethan looks at his drink rather than Benji. "Oh, yeah, all sorted."

Benji should be relieved. "Okay, thanks. Great. Yeah. So, do I need a new key, or—"

"No, no, you're fine. You stay put," Ethan says.

That makes it easy. Benji shrugs. Just because they've been in each other's pockets for months doesn't mean they can't actually be in different buildings to sleep. Obviously.

"The only thing this wedding is missing is bridesmaids," Will says. "And groomsmen," he adds, nodding at Benji. 

Benji rolls his eyes. "Well, there is Henrietta's sister. I think I heard she was divorced."

"Really?" Will perks up and Ethan laughs.

"You know she's got to be at least fifteen years old than you," Benji says, but without judgement. What's it to him if Will wants to hook up with the only available woman on the island? 

"I like an experienced woman," Will says, then he sucks at the straw until it makes a noise indicating the drink has been drained.

"You better slow down," Ethan says, waving away the bartender when he comes to see if they want refills. "You don't want to get completely blitzed before the ceremony." He glances at his watch. "Which is in about fifteen minutes. Drink up, Benj."

Benji does as he's told, the calories from the beer and the chicken wings indeed giving him a second wind. Ethan settles the tab and they head off to the beach, Will chattering the entire way, lubricated by the alcohol. 

Ethan knocks into Benji's shoulder as they approach. "Have a good nap?"

"Yeah, guess I needed it."

"We've been pushing pretty hard lately."

"Well, destroying a tenacious terrorist network doesn't happen in a day."

"True." Ethan touches Benji's elbow, stopping him a few yards from where the rest of the handful of wedding guests have assembled on the white sand, the sky dripping gold into the glittering ocean behind. "You'd tell me if it was too much, right? You don't have to accept every mission that comes your way."

"Neither do you," Benji says. "Why? Do you think I haven't been performing—"

"No, no," Ethan interrupts. "Nothing like that. We're a good team."

"I've always thought so," Benji says softly.

Ethan nods. He looks awfully serious for someone on holiday on a tropical island. "We are. Benji, I need to—"

Benji cocks his head, waiting for Ethan to go on. Then he realizes Ethan's looking at something over his shoulder, and his serious expression melts into a sunny smile. Benji has no idea what Ethan was going to say, but he knows he's not going to say it now. The moment has passed, and he knows with certainty when he finds out what—or who—Ethan is smiling at, the rest of this island interlude won't be the same.

"Ilsa." Ethan backtracks to meet the figure midway across the beach. Benji can't move. He just watches as Ilsa and Ethan hug, Ethan's dark hair and clothes a contrast to Ilsa's flowing white beachy dress and gleaming copper hair. They make a handsome couple, and Benji swallows down the jealousy that never fails to make an appearance when his fellow Brit comes on the scene. He should be over this—he and Ilsa put their differences aside ages ago—but it seems old habits die hard. He's had Ethan to himself for so long, it's tough to have to adjust to the possibility he'll have to share.

He leaves them to it, continues onto the wedding party. Luther's there, and Will, and the resort-provided justice of the peace. The bride's friends and sister are present, wearing matching corsages of tropical flowers. Luther's smile is so big, he looks like he might split his cheeks with happiness.

"Looks like she got the message." Will nods in Ilsa's direction. She and Ethan have their heads bent toward each other. Benji glances away from their easy intimacy.

"Ilsa." Luther's voice booms across the sand. "You almost missed it."

"But I didn't," she calls back, and she and Ethan walk side by side to join the group. Ilsa kisses each of them on the cheek in turn, and Benji forces a smile onto his face. Luther introduces Ilsa to the other women, and then Henrietta walks down the sand in a white pantsuit, bare feet, and a glowing smile to the strains of the wedding march courtesy of the resort's PA system.

The ceremony is short and heartfelt and Benji tunes out everything else except how happy Luther and Henrietta seem. Just because he's suddenly feeling lonelier than ever on this beach with his closest friends in the world doesn't mean there isn't something to celebrate. They are all alive, after all, and the world hasn't ended quite yet, thanks to them. Luther's earned his place in the sun, with a lovely partner by his side. Benji doesn't hide the sympathetic tear that springs to his eye when the justice of peace declares them husband and wife and Luther sweeps his bride up in an old-fashioned Hollywood kiss. The entire crowd erupts into hoots and hollers and cheers, and champagne appears as if by magic.

They make their way slowly to the same poolside patio where they had brunch. A feast is laid out, and an open bar, and a two-person band playing pop hits on a steel drum and guitar adds to the party feel, despite the limited guest list.

Benji tries not to track Ethan with his eyes, tries to let his friend have some space. He debates _Fawlty Towers_ versus Monty Python with Henrietta's college roommate, and swaps embarrassing drinking stories with Will, who's on his fourth piña colada and giggling like a teenager drunk on his first beer. Benji sticks mostly with water, not wanting to turn maudlin, which he has a tendency to do when he drinks at weddings.

Ilsa forces him up to dance when the band randomly plays "I Melt With You" and he actually has fun leading her in an energetic duet.

"You are an exceptional dancer, Benji," Ilsa remarks. "I should have known."

"I love to dance, actually. Not many opportunities lately, though."

"Good thing Luther decided to get married, then."

"Good thing. He's happy, isn't he."

They glance over to where he's squiring his bride around the dance floor.

"I've never seen him like this. He looks really—free," Ilsa says thoughtfully. "Retirement must agree with him."

"Well, he's earned it."

"And what about you, Benji? Haven't you earned some happiness?"

Benji squirms a little under her piercing stare. Ilsa has this irritating tendency to appear as if she can see right into your very soul. "I'm happy."

"I hear you and Ethan have been tearing through the ranks of the Apostles."

"I can neither confirm nor deny…" Benji smiles.

"Of course not." She tosses her head in Ethan's direction. He's been deep in conversation with Henrietta's sister for a while. Benji wonders what they're talking about. Traffic patterns? "He seems pretty good. A little tired."

"We pushed hard to make it here," Benji says, not willing to give more away.

"Then I'm glad you made it. Take care of him."

Benji squints at her. What does she mean by that?

"I know you will," she says when he doesn't say anything. Then she pats his cheek, and twirls away to coax a sloshed Will out for a dance.

Benji stands there uncertainly. The band's incongruously playing "Shake it Off." He's suddenly exhausted, despite the relatively early hour and his nap. He's debating how rude it would be to slip out of the party early, when it hits him. He's so tired. Tired of keeping Ethan at arm's length when everything in him wants to pull Ethan as close as possible. They work together, sure, but their lives are so tangled up together, Benji can't tell where work stops and life begins. It's everything, all at once, their friendship, their working relationship. They share everything because that's just how they are, how they function. They're better together. He'll never have Ethan in every way he wants him, but what he has is so much better than what it could be. Maybe that's what Ilsa meant. They do make a good team. They take care of each other. And that's quite something.

As if he can sense Benji is thinking about him, Ethan raises his head, meets Benji's gaze with his own. He smiles a bit, tilts his head in silent question. Benji doesn't know what Ethan's asking, not exactly, but the answer will always be yes. He nods, smiles a bit back. Ethan doesn't look away. The band switches from Taylor Swift to The Beatles' "Yesterday."

Benji's heart aches, staring at the man he loves across the space of thirty feet. Ethan hasn't broken eye contact, and Benji's sure that Ethan must see every emotion ricocheting around Benji's heart on his face. But it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter if Ethan knows how much Benji loves him. Benji almost wants him to know. Ethan already knows that Benji would die for him. He might as well know why.

His feet are moving before he can think about it, and Ethan's moving too. They meet in the middle, the rest of the party falling into the background. No one is paying any attention to them.

"Having a good time?" Ethan says.

"Oh yeah. The best."

"Want to head back?"

"Definitely."

They slip away. Luther will understand. They were there for the important part. It's quiet by the bungalows, the band's music fading as soon as they leave the pool area.

Benji doesn't know exactly what's going to happen, but he's not afraid. He can't be afraid when he's with Ethan, because Ethan would never let anything happen to him.

They stop in front of bungalow 6. Benji finds his key in his pocket. "You want to come in?"

Ethan nods.

When they get inside, Benji closes the door, does up the chain. Ethan's stuff is still there, his half-unpacked duffle, a small pile of dirty clothes, his boots. Ethan himself just stands by their—the—bed, watching Benji, saying nothing.

"You haven't moved your things," Benji says.

"No."

"I thought you said you took care of it?"

"I did. There's another bungalow on the other side of the island that's free. I'll stay there tonight if you want me to."

Benji must be tired, because it takes him a minute to respond. "If I want you to?"

"But I was hoping you wouldn't mind if I stayed."

"Stayed?"

"With you. Here."

"Why would I mind?" Benji's mouth in unaccountably dry.

"Actually, I was hoping you might _want_ me to stay."

"Want you?" Benji can't seem to stop repeating things Ethan is saying.

"Do you, Benji? Want me?" Ethan's face is open and hopeful and a little bit scared. That last one grounds Benji. Benji doesn't want Ethan to be scared, especially not about this. "I want you, so much."

Benji crosses the three feet to stand in front of Ethan. "I want you, Ethan. I want you to stay. I want to share this bed with you." He leans forward before he can talk himself out of it, kisses Ethan swift, soft, backs off but keeps his lips close so that when he whispers the next words Ethan will be able to feel them against his mouth. "I hope you know I love you."

Ethan kisses him back in response, bruisingly hard, and a kind of whimper comes from the back of his throat as Benji opens his mouth up to him. They kiss, and Benji's hands roam Ethan's body, in an echo of movements he's done dozens of times before, checking for injuries, checking to make sure the man he loves isn't bleeding to death from some innocuous injury. They're not bleeding this time, they're whole and safe but Benji can't stop touching Ethan, can't stop mapping his body with his hands. Ethan seems as caught up in Benji's body, his hands skimming under Benji's shirt, thumbs swiping rough across Benji's nipples, down his sides, around to cup the swell of his ass, pulling Benji flush against him.

Ethan nips at Benji's pulse, down his neck. "God, need you so much, Benji."

"You can have me," Benji says, and the next thing he knows they're on the bed, clothes are being shoved off and away, and Ethan's making a study of Benji's chest with his mouth.

"Your body, Jesus, I've wanted you for years, but today when I saw you come out in just your towel." Ethan swirls his tongue around Benji's right nipple and Benji bucks up against his hip, cock harder than it's been in recent memory. "I wanted to get down on my knees, open that towel, and suck you off."

"Fuck." Benji's cock pulses at Ethan's words, at the mental image they conjure up. "Do it."

Ethan peels Benji's boxers off, mouths at the tip of his cock, then swallows it down in one go. Benji digs his nails into his palm in an effort to keep from coming right away. He looks down, Ethan's long hair covering up his face as he gives Benji the best head of his life. "Ethan, fuck, your mouth. You feel so fucking incredible."

Ethan hums at the praise, and keeps sucking, until Benji gasps, feeling his cock fill with come. "Wait, don't want to come."

Ethan pulls off, crawls up Benji's body, looking smug, his lips red and shiny wet. Benji crashes their mouths together, gets his hand inside Ethan's underwear, stroking Ethan's thick cock, trying to get a good grip on it from this angle and failing. He pushes at Ethan's waistband ineffectually, and Ethan chuckles and shimmies out of his boxer briefs, slotting his cock next to Benji's, taking them both in hand. "Christ, you feel—" Benji can't finish the sentence. It's all too much and too hot and to feel Ethan, naked and pressing him down into the mattress, his compact body, strong and scarred and perfect, his beautiful mouth kissing Benji for all he's worth—it's better than any fantasy Benji could ever have come up with.

He comes, spraying over his own stomach and Ethan's hand, shouting against Ethan's mouth. Ethan follows a few seconds later, tensing all over and groaning against Benji's neck. They move together, shaking through their orgasms, until all Benji can hear is their ragged breathing and the squelch as Ethan shifts to the side, the air cooling the mess they made on their stomachs. Ethan grabs some tissues and cleans them up a little bit. Benji can't move. He's completely drained, and he's—what the fuck? He just had sex with Ethan Hunt. 

He told Ethan that he loved him, and the world wasn't even ending.

"Benji, you okay?"

Benji opens his mouth and closes it without saying anything.

"Benj?" Ethan looks at him worriedly. "Was that—I didn't do anything you didn't like, right?"

"No," Benji answers. "I liked it."

"Oh." Ethan relaxes. "Good. Me too."

"I think I'm a bit in shock."

Ethan smiles down at him fondly. "You're allowed."

"You wanted me for years?" Benji's pretty sure Ethan said something like that, but he'd lost a lot of his ability to process words right about the time Ethan started sucking his cock.

"You didn't know?"

"What? No!"

Ethan sighs. "For a long time I didn't really understand why I cared so much. I think it was that run in with Lane—you know, Tower Bridge and the…well, it all kind of clicked. But I didn't think I was ever going to do anything about it."

"Why not?"

"I didn't think you felt the same way. You're pretty hard to read sometimes."

"Oh."

"I thought—friends, that's decent, that's good. And romantic entanglements mixed with our jobs usually don't end well."

"True. What changed?"

"Kashmir. I came so close to not making it off that mountain. Lane almost killed you. I don't ever want to feel like that again. Working these missions with you—we are a good team, but it's more than that, I need you close. I need to be able to see you, touch you."

"I feel the same way. We've become a bit codependent, haven't we?" Benji says ruefully.

"I don't care. I don't care if some might see it as a weakness." Ethan kisses Benji soft and sure. "I'm stronger when I'm with you. I hate being apart from you."

"You don't have to be. I'm with you, Ethan, come what may."

"Ilsa said she thought you felt the same way."

"You talked about it with her?" This is just another surprise on top of all the others.

"She asked me after Kashmir if I was going to tell you how I felt. She could see it, clear as day. It's hard to hide things from that one."

"Tell me about it."

"I told her I'd tell you when I was ready. I guess I've been scared to cross that line."

"Ethan Hunt, scared?"

"Being in love can be terrifying."

Benji's heart feels like it tumbles to his toes and bounces back again in the space of a second. "Love?"

"I love you, Benji, so much." Ethan cups his hand around Benji's chin, pulls him in for another kiss.

Benji's died and gone to heaven. It wouldn't matter if that was literally true as long as Ethan was with him.

"What next, then?"

"Well, I spent last night wishing we were sleeping much closer together in this big, comfy bed," Ethan says with a smile. "So we could try that."

"That can be arranged. I've also been dying to try out that enormous tub."

"You have the best ideas."

"Thank you," Benji says. "Here's another one—how about we try out those fancy resort-branded condoms and lube before we clean up in the bath?"

Ethan raises an eyebrow. "Ready to go again, already, Mr. Dunn?"

"I may be middle-aged, but I'm motivated."

Ethan licks his lips. "I love you."

"I love you, too." Benji shifts his weight so he's on top of Ethan, straddling his waist. "And I'd love for you to fuck me into this impossibly comfortable mattress."

"Only if you top next time."

"Wouldn't have it any other way."

***

The next day, Benji and Ethan have gotten their money's worth out of their bed, the tub, the shower, the bed again, and the bathroom counter. They go to meet the group at brunch holding hands. Luther gives them teeth-rattling back slaps, Henrietta coos, Will grimaces encouragingly while holding an ice pack to his head. Ilsa's already headed off for parts unknown. Ethan doesn't let go of Benji's hand while they collect plates of food. They have to put the plates down to get their coffee.

"This isn't very efficient," Benji remarks, but without much heat, nodding at their hands.

Ethan shrugs. "I'm not in a hurry."

Benji smiles, raises their joined hands, then kisses the back of Ethan's. "Neither am I, love. Neither am I."

End


End file.
